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| Copyright Peter Vanham |
I have a couple excerpts from different stories I'm considering. There's just too many possibilities!
The first one... is based in an established world already that I've created.
The second one is made up of what I have going on in my head. Numbers and stone statues.
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“We hide things. We steal the things the world says are the most dangerous things in the world; the things that will bring back our mortality.
Humans are supposed to die. We’re supposed to ‘get sick.’ But we don’t.
We are murdered.” – From the Creed of the Mercy Slayers
“What about… The Stealers?” Garrett gulped down more of the tonic. “It’s got a mysterious feel to it, like the shadows.”
“But it’s so obvious.” Tuney groaned. “What do we do? We steal stuff. If the idea is to not get caught let’s not name ourselves with the crime before we commit it.”
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The statue didn’t move.
Tony could’ve hugged the statue’s pedestal in relief. Then the shock of what that implied sank in.
“It’s finally over.” He took a deep breath and turned to Syrie. “Can you believe it?”
Syrie shook her head. Her voice whispered through his mind. No. But I know that it is. It’s not like last time. However you of all people know that knowing is different than actually believing…
Tony stepped over to the statue’s pedestal and slid down the still warm stone. He touched the words engraved in their neat little rows. Above the lengthy paragraph was the title: The Queen.
Tony and Syrie each studied the stone chunks scattered around them. There was a wing (from a very talkative griffin), an arm, the remains of The Queen and pieces too badly battered to discern what they had been originally.
Syrie pulled out her pen, the one that had lead for ink, and wrote on the pedestal: The 37th War. Year 2073. The Queen has fallen. Survivors Tony Derk and Syrena Tome.
We remember.
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